


Dork Dad (10th Doctor x Child! Reader)

by whowantstostayinrealityanyways



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Child Reader, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:45:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whowantstostayinrealityanyways/pseuds/whowantstostayinrealityanyways
Summary: Prompt: “Hey! I saw your post about requesting fanfiction. Would you by chance be willing to write a tenth Doctor imagine with the reader as his daughter from Gallifrey? Could you write one when they’re on earth trying to blend in with everyone else while trying to save the planet or something, and the reader is pretty good about blending in, but the Doctor is awkward/adorable about it? Thanks so much!”





	Dork Dad (10th Doctor x Child! Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Man, I forgot how much I missed 10. I really had fun writing this, so I hope this meets your expectations. If not, I’m so, so sorry.

“ _Why don’t you ever use the stabilizers?_  They’re there for a  _reason!_ ” You shouted at the stupid old man giddily running around his TARDIS control console as you tried your very hardest not to fall on your ass.

“ _Oh_ , come on, (Y/n), what  _fun_ are stabilizers?”

“It’s  _fun_ not falling all over the place like an  _idiot_.”

“When did you become such a  _grump?_ ”

“I’d say probably 120 years ago after  _a supernova nearly killed me._ ”

“Oh, you’re  _so_ dramatic,” he laughed at you.

 

The funnyman with the sandshoes and trench coat who now stood opposite of you, was none other than the infamous Doctor, savior of billions, an enemy to, even more, a.k.a. the oncoming storm. Also, he was your dad.

Life aboard the TARDIS was chaotic and odd enough as it was, what made it even  _more_ chaotic and odd though was your dad. He was one of the strangest Time Lords you’d ever known, but of course, he was your favorite. You were a daddy’s girl after all. You couldn’t remember your mother, having run off with your dad, escaping Gallifrey, when you were very young nearly 500 years ago.

Being a Time Lord, your dad had been through many faces. There was his first, the old one that you almost missed in a weird way; his fourth one, you had liked his scarf; his war face, that’d been a hard time for both of you; his “ninth” face, he was the one that had the big ears; and then this one, the handsome one. Out of all his faces, you think you liked this one best of all. It was so fun to be able to say ‘ _This is my dad!_ ’ and throw people into a shock. Before this face people would always just  _assume_ that he was your grandad or boyfriend or something.

You yourself had only been through a handful of faces, but you were quite happy with the one you had right now.

 

“Out of all the Time Lords on this ship, I don’t think  _you’re_ the most qualified to fly this TARDIS,” you sat yourself down on the bench as he did a diagnosis check.

“ _Oh?_  And what makes you think  _you’re_ better off flying her?”  
  
“ _I passed_  my TARDIS test.”

He gave you a sideways look.

 

“Alright, but  _who_ stole it.”

You huffed and crossed your arms.

 

“I  _could_ have stolen my own TARDIS… I would have been  _fantastic_.”

“I don’t doubt that sweetheart,” he smiled proudly.

.

.

.

“ _You? Undercover?_ ” you laughed at your dad as he rocked back and forth on his big feet. “ _Please_ , that’ll be a disaster.”

“ _How?_  It’s just  _Earth_ , I’m good with humans. I’ve been on Earth  _millions_ of times, I  _know_ humans.”

“Dad, you’re about as good at being human as you are at flying a TARDIS.”

“It’s not like I have to  _pass a test_  to be human,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair.

“But if you did, you’d fail that too.”

“What’s your point? You  _always_ make fun of me when you’re trying to get something.”

“Let me go too,” you bat your eyelashes and put on your best puppy dog eyes. “I’m  _great_ at humans!”

“ _No, no, no_. Absolutely  _not!”_

.

.

“Just… let  _me_ do the talking,” you dad muttered as you both approached the front desk of the office you were trying to search. As always, you’d gotten what you wanted in the end. For a formidable enemy of millions of species, he was quite the softy when it came to his little girl.

“Can I help you?” the woman behind the desk looked your dad up and down. You knew that look all too well, that was one of the downsides of this face.  _All_ the ladies fancied him.

“Yes, we’d like to see Mr. Harding,” he flashed his psychic paper at her, most probably giving her a fake ID with some sort of importance. “It’s urgent.”

“Of course,  _Mr. Smith_ ,” she smiled grossly wide. “I’ll page him right away, but first, may I ask if this is  _Mrs_. Smith?”

“I, uh, well,” he began to stutter as his brain tried to process the question that has been thrown at him.

“In a manner of speaking,  _yes_ ,” you gave her a cold smile. “I’m  _Miss_ Smith, his  _daughter_.”

“ _His daughter?_ ” she looked between the two of you. You had to bite your tongue in order to stifle the laugh in your throat. Right now, due to your multitude of regenerations, you appeared about the same age as your dad. Of course, in reality, he was  _several_ hundred years older than you but looks could be deceiving.

“Yes, now if you could  _please_ page Mr. Harding and tell him that  _Daddy_ and I are on our way up that’d be simply marvelous.” You linked arms with your dad and guided him towards the elevator.

.

“Good, uh, good job back there,” he said as you stepped onto the lift.

“I  _told_ you I was good with humans,” you looked up at him proudly.

“Yeah, but we don’t know what floor Mr. Harding’s on, so poor planning there.”

“Ah, father of mine, you have so little faith,” you pressed the button for the 11th floor.

“ _How did you-_ ”

“While Ms.  _Desperate_ down there was making googly eyes at you, I managed to read her clipboard. Mr. Harding just had his desk moved up to the 11th floor on Monday.”

“Alright, I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” you blushed. You loved it when you impressed him, you were always trying to. You were, in the end, after all, just a girl after her dad’s two hearts.

 

“Okay, now this time  _really_ let me do all the talking.”

“In your dreams, old man.”

.

.

.

You simply couldn’t stop laughing. It had been nearly  _30 minutes_ since it’d happened but every time you looked over at him, you couldn’t help but start laughing all over again

“Stop it, it’s not funny,” he grumbled, grumpy as ever.

“ _Yes it is!_ ” you wheezed. “You were kissed by a  _Zygon_! That’s disgusting!”

“I said  _stop it!_ ”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you took a deep breath.

 

“Was it any good?”

“(Y/n), I’m  _warning_ you!”

“Oh, what are you going to do?  _Ground_ me?”

“I might.”

“Oh please, I’m 589 years old, you can’t ground me on account of  _laughing_.”

“I could have  _died!_ ”

“That would have been  _the_ most  _hilarious_ death in the history of time.”

.

“What can I get you?” you both turned your heads to see a woman holding a paper and pen. You’d almost forgotten that you were sitting at a diner booth in the 1930s.

“Oh, right, I’ll just have a slice of apple pie and a Coke, please and thank you,” you slid her your menu.

“And for you dear?” she bat her long lashes at your dad.

“Gross,” you said to yourself.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just have-” he panicked and looked back at you.

“He’ll have I’m having,” you quickly spoke up for him.

“Yeah, that,” he said embarrassed.

“Alright, two slices of pie and a couple of Cokes coming right up,” she skated away on a set of roller blades.

“Nice one, Dad,” you mocked his inability to speak again.

“I was caught off guard!”

“You’ve been to this diner like a  _billion_ times, you know the menu by hearts.”

He stared at you angrily before turning his head the other way in a huff.

 

“Oh, what’s wrong?”

“You were right.”

“Well  _duh_ , but about what?”

“I  _am_ a rubbish human,” he sighed.

You blinked for a moment, then two. Your dad, always the strong one, always the optimist looked downright depressed about not being more human.

“Yeah, but you’re not  _supposed_ to be a good human,” you looked into his old, sad brown eyes. “You’re  _supposed_ to be a good Doctor, a Time Lord and my dad.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he kissed your hand and gave you a gentle smile.

 

 

“So what’s next?”

“Oh, you know, all of space and time, the whole universe. Where ever you like, (Y/n) baby.”

“ _Dad_ , I’m-”

“-589,  _I know, I know_. But you’ll  _always_ be  _my_ baby girl.”

 

 


End file.
